


Lesser-Known Cures for Affliction

by orphan_account



Category: Pathfinder: Kingmaker (Video Game)
Genre: Dominance, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Multi, Neutral Evil Baron, No Romance, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 06:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: While investigating the curse of Bald Top Hill, Tristian is hit by a curse that only affects persons who are pure and free of sin. (Please read the author's note for warnings.)





	Lesser-Known Cures for Affliction

**Author's Note:**

> I mean it about the dubcon, guys, if you're bothered by this kind of stuff, this isn't the PWP for you. The Baron and Regongar are assholes in this, hence the NeutralEvil!Baron tag. (My playthrough Baroness is actually Neutral Good). It's really just an excuse for me to write kinky smut. 
> 
> The Baron has no name because I always find it weird when video game fic gives an original name to the protagonist and the Kingmaker protag doesn't have a canonical/default name afaik.

The Baron was just about to wrap up the day’s business when one of the guards came in, announcing an urgent request for audience from Jhod and Tristian. A look of mild annoyance crossed his face – like Regongar, he was probably looking forward to the fun part of the day. Regongar considered leaving. Technically, as the general he had to stick around for any official governing business while he was in the capital, but Jhod was a sad old bore. On the other hand, staying gave him an excuse to stare unashamedly at Tristian.

Regongar had been with the Baron the day they had saved Tristian at the Temple of the Elk. A priest of Sarenrae – under any other circumstances, Regongar couldn’t imagine someone like that throwing in their lot with people like them, but the Baron had made it clear that he expected gratitude for his help, and Tristian was apparently under the delusion that his goddess had chosen him to guide the Baron’s path toward good, or something like that. In Regongar’s opinion, that wasn’t likely to happen – their illustrious leader was a good ally to have, but he was never going to win awards for sainthood. Still, Tristian stuck around, doing as the Baron told him, and the Baron wisely only told Tristian to do things that weren’t too much at odds with his faith and delicate temperament. He didn’t have to: if he needed a less squeamish cleric, there was always Harrim. 

Although Regongar, by and large, didn’t give a fuck about religion if it didn’t involve drinking, feasting, fucking or slaughtering people, he enjoyed Tristian’s company. The human was even prettier than Octavia (not that he’d ever tell her that), and Regongar just loved winding him up. So far, Tristian had pretended pious ignorance whenever Regongar said something suggestive, but he was sure that Tristian knew exactly what he meant. 

Regongar was still undecided when the two clerics entered the hall. Even from thirty feet away, he could tell that something was off. Jhod looked much the same as usual – grey, boring and slightly worried, but Tristian was… disheveled. Under the white hood of his robes, he was flushed and his skin had a feverish glow to it. He moved slowly, too, gingerly taking his steps as if he was afraid of hurting himself.  
“Aren’t you supposed to be breaking the curse on Bald Top Hill?” the Baron asked Jhod without preamble. He didn’t have much more patience for the priest of Erastil than Regongar. 

“Yes, my lord,” Jhod said, “but there was an accident. In trying to lift the curse, we accidentally triggered something… maybe a defense. I was spared, but I’m afraid young Tristian suffered its full might.”  
The Baron tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his throne. “So? We have everything in your temple to lift a curse, don’t we? Why come to me?”

“I… did go to the temple first,” Jhod said, and now he was visibly squirming with discomfort. “And I have managed to ascertain the only way to break the curse. But… propriety forbade me from taking matters into my own hand. I would not… the ritual required is unusual. You see, the curse affected Tristian because of his… youth and inexperience. He is a true pure soul, untouched by worldly matters, never sullied by desire…”

“So, a virgin,” Regongar said, and Tristian glanced up at him from under his hood. In the split second before he averted his gaze, Regongar was struck by the unusual intensity of it – almost like a dark fire, shadowing the usual crystal brightness of his eyes. 

Jhod grimaced, appalled by Regongar’s bluntness, but nodded. He looked at the Baron. “The only remedy, it pains me to say, is to take that purity from him.”

The Baron narrowed his eyes at Jhod, and a faint, chilly smile crept into his expression. “I see,” he drawled. “You’re not here to inform me of this, Jhod, you’re here to ask permission.” 

Regongar chuckled. Oh yeah, the Baron was right about that. Anyone could see that Jhod had been licking his fingers for Tristian’s ‘purity’ since the day he’d been introduced to their pretty friend. Only Tristian pretended ignorance of the old priest’s intentions, either because he was embarrassed by it or because he was happy to lead him on. 

Jhod mumbled something along the lines of ‘I never’, but then he admitted, “The curse will sap him of all strength eventually… he would die, my lord.”

“Anyone can do it, I assume?” the Baron prodded. 

“It is not… an arcane ritual,” Jhod admitted. “But – “

“Then let’s hear Tristian,” the Baron said, rising from his throne and slowly approaching Tristian. “Someone here is going to have to finally break him in, he might as well get a say in who gets to do it. Well, Tristian?”  
Tristian stared. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. “Maybe… maybe Sarenrae will have mercy on me – “ he whispered. 

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll forgive you for breaking your vows once this is done, but I doubt she’ll come down from the heavens to do the deed herself,” the Baron said, causing old Jhod to suck in a scandalized breath.  
“I… can’t,” Tristian said helplessly. “Please don’t – please don’t make me choose.”

The Baron, after waiting a few moments, his gaze locked sternly on Tristian, turned to Jhod. Regongar could see his expression shift. He was clearly trying not to grin too obviously. “It seems the duty falls to me, then. Thanks for bringing the matter to my attention, Jhod. You may go now.”

For a moment, Jhod seemed as though he might try to argue. He hemmed and hawed. Regongar took a small step forward, casually putting a hand on the hilt of his scimitar. Tristian, curiously, did not say a word – he only stared at the floor in front of the Baron’s feet. 

Jhod finally saw that he had been played. He patted Tristian’s shoulder awkwardly, then muttered an excuse and fled the hall. 

“No more audiences for today,” the Baron announced loudly to the guards. “Lock the place up. I will retire to my chambers – Tristian, you’re with me.”

There was a rustle and shifting all about the great hall as the guards extinguished most of the lights and left the building. Tristian followed a few steps behind the barrow like a man being led to the gallows.

Regongar watched them go, waited a few minutes, then snuck after them. The passage to the Baron’s chamber was dark. He leaned against the stone wall next to the door for a moment, listening intently. Tristian was saying something, but Regongar couldn’t make out his words, only the pleading tone of his voice. 

“My patience is limited,” the Baron said. “You had your chance to pick someone and you didn’t take it. I will not allow you to waste yourself on a vow which, by the way, is not required by your faith.”

It wasn’t? Regongar had no idea what being a priest of Sarenrae entailed. Why would anyone choose chastity if they didn’t have to? But the Baron was a clever fellow, not highborn but educated, and Tristian did not argue – there was a long, embarrassed silence on his end. Then, so softly Regongar had to lean in to hear, he said, “Thank you for… helping me. I know it must be…”

The Baron answered with a laugh. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy it, don’t think I won’t.”

Regongar considered his options. He could stay and listen as the Baron had his fun and maybe get off that way. Or he could press his luck. Quietly, he gave the door a little push – it wasn’t locked from the inside. So there. That was permission enough. 

When he entered, Tristian was awkwardly sitting on the very edge of the large four-poster bed while the Baron was pouring wine into two cups. That, Regongar supposed, was why he was Baron: he wasn’t just ruthless, clever and capable with a sword, he also had class. He’d wine and dine Tristian before he fucked the curse out of him. 

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to be disturbed?” their leader asked pointedly. 

“No, you didn’t. I figured that meant you wouldn’t mind a little back-up.”

Again, the Baron laughed. “And of course you’re here out of concern for the barony, huh? Tristian is an important asset, after all.”

“Sure,” Regongar shrugged. “Also, I’ve caught him staring at these when he thought I wasn’t looking.” He stroked his tattooed biceps, then cupped himself through his trouser. “And at this when we bathed at the lake.”

The Baron raised a mocking brow at Tristian. “Is that so?”

“No!” Tristian exclaimed, but he had followed Regongar’s hands very closely, and flushed even harder. 

Regongar grinned, showing him more of his sharp tusks. “And I hear him sighing whenever he gives me the healing touch. Well, sigh no more. You can have all of this.”

“Tristian, Tristian,” the Baron said, shaking his head. “I gave you a choice – you could have said that it’s Regongar you want.”

Tristian said nothing, twisting his hands in his robes. “He’s shy,” Regongar said. “It’s asking for a lot, after all.”

“True. We’ll do it here. Together."

“The more the merrier, huh?”

The Baron poured some more wine. “Undress,” he told Tristian.

After a moment of hesitation, Tristian reached for his belt. He barely managed to unbuckle it and put it aside when he faltered. “I really wish you wouldn't stare at me like that.”

Cute. Regongar glanced at the Baron, who shrugged. “Do it for him, then.”

Tristian shied away from him as he approached, scuttling backwards onto the bed until his back hit the wall. He stared up at Regongar, breath held, when he followed him onto the bed and seized him by one ankle to keep him from trying to run. He tried to pull away his foot, but Regongar pulled it back. Seeing that he was trapped, Tristian gasped, “What are you doing?”

“Having a look,” Regongar said. He pushed up Tristian’s robes with his free hand, baring his knees and thighs. They were bare, with only the slightest dusting of silver hairs on creamy skin. “I’ve always wanted to know what you’ve got under those robes.”

“Unhand me!"

“Say it like you actually mean it,” Regongar retorted, and groped him through his smallclothes before getting a firm hold on them and pulling them off entirely. Tristian sucked in a sharp breath and froze, barely even struggling as Regongar manhandled him out of his robes, laying him bare piece by piece. His skin felt hotter than it should be, dry but feverish. Other than that he looked healthy, though – not a scratch or scar on him, not even a birthmark. He tried to cover himself by pulling his knees to his chest when Regongar tossed his robes aside, but even so he was a sight to behold – long-limbed and delicate, with slim hips and a soft chest, his silky framing creamy white shoulders. 

Regongar licked his lips in the lewdest way possible, enjoying the way Tristian’s breathing quickened and his blush deepened. “Delicious.”

After a few moments, Tristian tore his gaze away from Regongar and lowered his eyes bashfully. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t tease me about it,” he pleaded. “Can’t you just do what needs to be done to break the curse?”

Regongar ran his fingertips up Tristian’s shin, and then down the inside of his thighs, watching them quiver as Tristian attempted to suppress a moan. “And have you miss out on all the fun this could be?”

“Enough,” the Baron said. “If you wish to be pragmatic about this, Tristian, turn around and get on your knees.”

Tristian’s breath hitched, but to Regongar’s surprise, he scrambled to turn around, positioning himself awkwardly on his hands and knees, which left his sweet, sweet ass right in front of Regongar. Tristian hid his face between his arms, his hair sliding down to bare his shoulders and his graceful neck, his thighs still trembling with anticipation. When Regongar ran his thumb down the cleft of his ass to rub his velvety, almost hairless balls between his thumb and his palm, Tristian stayed still, but when he bent down to lick between the delicious soft globes of Tristian’s ass, he gasped and tried to scramble away. “Stop – why – this isn’t – “

Regongar quickly grasped Tristian’s thighs to hold him back, his fingers digging deep into smooth skin, and said, “Some help?”

The Baron was already moving to the head of the bed, and now seized Tristian’s wrists, holding the priest in place. Tristian attempted to break free again, but he was no match for the swordsman, especially in his addled state. 

“Don’t,” he begged, desperately lifting his head to the Baron. “Don’t let him – this isn’t necessary –“

“Shush,” Regongar said, kissing his tailbone and holding firmly onto his narrow hips. “You’re going to love this.”

Tristian’s cries and pleas rose to a desperate pitch as Regongar licked down and then turned to muffled sobs as the cleric bit his lips and tried to endure as Regongar pried his cheeks apart and licked around the pink, puckered rim of his hole. Tristian was lovely down there, clean and pure as only a priest could be, and so sensitive that Regongar could have had fun with him like this all night long. He licked him in broad filthy stripes like a dog until Tristian was a shuddering mess of moans, then stabbed inside with his tongue. For a moment, the muscles fluttered and relaxed, letting him lick deep, then, as Tristian realized what was happening, they clenched tight again. 

After a few more minutes of this, Regongar pressed a firm kiss to his hole and sat up, stroking Tristian’s ass with one hand and his own cock with the other. “I don’t think he’ll be able to take this without some slick,” he said. 

“What do you think, Tristian?” the Baron asked. “Will you be able to take Regongar?”

Tristian answered only with an incoherent whimper, so the Baron let go of one of his wrists and fisted some of his hair instead, lifting Tristian’s head and turning it so he was forced to look at Regongar, up on his knees on the bed and slowly pumping his cock. 

Tristian’s lips were wet and swollen from biting them, and his eyes looked reddened, as if he had cried. Now they widened in shock and awe. 

“He’s big, isn’t he?” the Baron said. “Can you imagine what it’ll feel like to have that half-orc cock inside of you?” Then he jerked his chin at the large chest by the wall. “There should be something in there with the potions. Go get it yourself.”

While Regongar got up to go to the chest, he saw out of the corner of his eye how the Baron pulled Tristian up further by his hair and pressed a long, hard kiss onto his mouth. He could also see now that Tristian’s cock, dangling between his legs, had grown and become harder, its tip flushed a sweet pink. 

Regongar took his time with the potions, distracted by the view. A few times, Tristian tried to pull back from the kiss, but the Baron only tightened his grip on him, twisting his hair ungently and plunging deeper into his mouth, his grip crushing on the wrist he still held. Finally, Regongar found a small wooden jar of some greasy, scentless salve and returned to the bed. 

The Baron released Tristian, allowing him to catch his breath before resting his hand on the back of his neck again and pressing him down onto the bed. “Get him ready.”

Tristian’s little arsehole looked even better with the grease giving it a slick, shiny sheen. Regongar took his time rubbing it around in small circles, and then put two of his fingers together and pushed them in, savouring the resistance that met him as Tristian tensed up, his whole body fighting the intrusion. 

“It hurts!” Tristian gasped. 

“You’ll like it,” the Baron promised. “Eventually.”

“Pain’s half the gain, if you ask me,” Regongar said. Then again, he’d never been fucked by anyone quite as big as him and he wasn’t a dainty little thing like Tristian. Looking down at his fingers, up to the second knuckle in Tristian’s ass and looking huge in comparison to Tristian’s slender form, he could already tell this was going to be one hell of a tight ride. 

He pressed them all the way in now, enjoying the sight, and then gave Tristian a little taste of what was to come, fucking him roughly with his fingers. 

“Please,” Tristian whimpered. “Maybe – this is enough – to break the curse –“

“We’ve barely even started,” Regongar grinned, pulling out his fingers and taking his cock in hand to drag the head over Tristian’s hole, letting him feel how tender and ready he now was. “Fuck,” he growled, “you’re hot, that’s it, take it, give me that noise again. You know what I’m seeing? I’m seeing you stretched around my dick, my big fucking orc dick in your sweet little asshole, going right in…” At the thickest part, near the base, even Regongar himself wasn’t sure Tristian could take any more of it, but he wasn’t going to stop now, so he put his back into it and slid in the last inches to the sound of a high-pitched cry from the priest. 

He stayed in deep at first, holding on tightly to Tristian’s hips as he rocked his hips in powerful, slow thrusts, each forcing a helpless moan from the priest. Then he pulled back, watching the long slide of his cock, grinning at how much of it Tristian had taken before shoving it all the way in again, upping the pace. The perfect clasp barely lost its tightness, but it was a smooth ride now, in and out, his balls slapping against Tristian’s as he pounded his ass. 

The Baron watched until Tristian’s cries became fainter, then cupped his chin with one hand and made him lift his face so they could see it. Tristian’s mouth was hanging open in one continuous moan now, and his eyes were wet and unfocused. When the Baron brushed his thumb against Tristian’s lower lip, he came away with a bit of drool, which he showed Regongar. At their chuckles, Tristian’s lashes fluttered and he looked up in confusion and then down in shame as the Baron’s thumb strayed further, rubbing his tongue with obvious intent. But Regongar felt him twitch at the same time, tightening around his cock in a sudden flutter. “Oh yeah, he wants it.”

“Do you? Maybe you want us both at the same time? A cock in your sweet as and another in your mouth? Well, you’ll just have to wait. I want your full attention when I fuck you.” The Baron patted Tristian’s head, letting go of him again. “Looks like Regongar has something for you first.”

Regongar hummed in assent. He rubbed Tristian’s thighs and ass, getting a good feel of that beautiful soft body while he fucked him. He didn’t think it would be the only time, given that Tristian was clearly a little slut behind that prim and proper façade. They were going to have him again and again. But just in case, he kept going as long as he could. As he finally felt the tide of pleasure build, he drew back so he could see the sharp, jutting swollen head of his cock just slipping free of Tristian’s body. Grinning, he aimed the first thick spurt of come straight at his gaping hole. Then he jutted his hips forward, letting his pulsing cock slide up between Tristian’s cheeks so the second spurt branded the small of Tristian’s back and then, with a grunt of pleasure, he pushed into Tristian’s cum-slick hole again, spreading his seed deep into his body, and released the last of it inside him with a roar of triumph. 

As Regongar calmed, he noticed Tristian shaking. The priest was breathing hard and fast now, trying to be still and failing. Speared on Regongar’s still hard cock, he just couldn’t stay still. His knees threatened to slide out from under him, and Regongar took a moment to just watch him fall apart, highly satisfied. Then he wrapped an arm around Tristian and toppled them sideways onto the bed – still managing to stay inside. The cum on Tristian’s back got smeared against his belly, but Regongar didn’t give a damn about the mess.

“How – how are you still hard – “ Tristian whimpered, squirming weakly to try and get off him. 

Regongar nuzzled his neck. “I fuck like a wolf. Now let’s take care of you before the second round, hmm?”

Tristian’s cock was right there, curving prettily against his hip, but Regongar reached for his chest instead, squeezing it with both hands like he would a girl’s. Tristian was skinny, but there was some softness here, just enough for a good squeeze, and his nipples were soft little buds that just begged to be pinched. “You’ve got the sweetest little tits.”

“N-no – “

“Yeah, they are. I could play with them all night. Do you really want me to stop?”

Another squeeze made Tristian arch his back in an effort to twist away, driving him back down onto the full length of Regongar’s cock. He made a sound that was half sob and half gasp. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Regongar finally stopped tormenting him and let his hands travel further down Tristian’s taut belly. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

It only took a few strokes. Tristian, for all the noise he had made before, came with the softest sigh, eyes closed, his come spilling readily into Regongar’s fist and his head dropping back onto Regongar’s shoulder. Regongar held him through the aftershocks, kissing his ear, enjoying the feeling of Tristian’s body twitching and clenching around him. As he quietened, the Baron shifted on the bed, undoing his belt and dropping it on the floor. “Done?” he asked. 

Regongar gave him a leer. “Have a look and tell me if I’m done,” he said, and ran his hand down Tristian’s leg and under his knee, lifting it up so his legs were spread wide so the Baron got a good view of Regongar’s cock, now at full hardness and girth, filling up Tristian’s ass. He rocked his hips for good measure, letting him watch it slide in another inch and stretch Tristian wide. It felt so good to be sheathed in that hot channel, and even better to see the impressed look on the Baron’s face. “Ive heard orcs can come for a good ten minutes,” Regongar said, groaning as he spilled another load of cum inside Tristian, “and I can go almost as – fuck – long if I’ve got something as delicious as this one to play with.”

Tristian’s leg twitched against his hold as he tried to close them to stop the Baron from seeing the wet mess now coating Regongar’s cock and his ass as more and more come filled him. He tried to cover his mouth with his own hand to stifle whatever noise was escaping it, but Regongar reached around with his free hand and pulled it aside so they could hear him panting wantonly. 

At last, Regongar’s cock went soft. He let it rest inside the gaping, twitching mess of Tristian’s fucked out hole for a moment, basking in the glory, then pushed off, leaving Tristian lying between them on the bed, clutching the covers, his face turned away into the pillows. Regongar petted the priest’s silky hair, untangling some of it. “You can get cursed again anytime, pretty.”

“We should be thorough,” their leader said. “Make sure this one’s properly broken before we plan on doing it again.”

He ordered Tristian to get up on his hands and knees again, but the priest could barely comply. Shivering, his head hanging between his shoulders, his knees shaking, he tried to kneel on the covers again. The Baron prodded him here and there, nudging his legs apart a little, revealing the come still leaking from his hole and the faint bruises forming on his hips and ass. Then he rolled Tristian over onto his back and swung a leg over him, kneeling over his chest, his cock jutting out right above Tristian’s face. The priest had an overwhelmed look on his face. 

“Open up,” the Baron commanded. Again Tristian tried, but he could barely manage to lick the head of his cock and wrap his trembling lips around it. 

“You can suck it or I can fuck your face.”

Tristian attempted to go deeper. He opened up as wide as he could, wrapped his lips around the shaft and, closing his eyes with a muffled moan, tried to move his head to suck up and down the dark, veined length of the Baron’s cock. They could hear him choking a few times, and whenever he released the Baron’s cock to catch a desperate breath, the Baron let the drool-covered length slap against the side of his face impatiently.  
Then the Baron took himself in hand, dragging the red, shiny head against Tristian’s cheeks and lashes, before guiding it back to his mouth and pushing in again.

After a few such attempts, the Baron simply reached down, cupping the back of Tristian’s head, bunching a fistful of long hair in his grasp and held him in place as he fucked forward into his mouth. He moved slowly at first, enjoying a few languid strokes, then upped the pace of his thrusts, letting Tristian gag on his cock. 

He pulled out before he came, hooking his thumb on Tristian’s jaw and holding his mouth open so he could spill his seed onto Tristian’s tongue. For a moment, all Tristian could do was gasp for air, but as he did so, he swallowed. And he didn’t stop there – in a haze, his lashes clogged with tears, he lifted up his head and licked the Baron clean, lapping up the last beads of milky fluid as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste.  
“Oh yeah,” Regongar applauded. “What a fucking show.”

“Not bad,” the Baron allowed, climbing off Tristian and walking over to the table. He was naked from the waist down, but still wearing his shirt, and finished the goblet of wine he had started earlier as if nothing had happened. 

Someone should have cleaned up Tristian, or helped him do it, but Regongar enjoyed the sight of him too much. He looked ravaged, a pure and whole thing made filthy, his divine radiance somehow even more delightful in this tattered, messed up state. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Regongar asked him, genuinely this time, without teasing. 

Tristian turned onto his belly, hiding his face in the pillows once more. “I’m a wretched sinner,” he muttered, his voice as ravaged as the rest of him. 

“Naw.” Regongar patted his naked ass. “Still pure as the driven snow. We did all the sinning.”

“I let you,” Tristian insisted. “Like… like a wanton whore.”

True. Tristian was a spellcaster of considerable power and not as weak as he looked: he could have put up far more of a fight. Regongar brushed aside Tristian’s hair, kissing the downy back of his neck. “You knew this was going to happen eventually. No one forced you to stick around us assholes, right? But you’ve been saying it’s destiny. Well, seems to me your destiny is to spread the light of Sarenrae and also be a filthy little slut for the Baron and me.”

Tristian laughed softly, the sound of it almost swallowed by the pillow. “I deserve your mockery.”

Regongar stroked his naked back. The skin still felt warm, but no longer feverish. “I feel better,” Tristian admitted. “It seems you’ve cured me.”

“Oh yeah, we did,” Regongar agreed. “We cured you good and hard.”


End file.
